“I cried sobbingly until at last those visions reeking with blood came to comfort me. And then I surrendered myself to them, to those deplorably brutal visions, my most intimate friends”-( Yukio Mishima, “Confessions of a Mask”)
Why I choose to write these lines? Because this would be my favorite book by the astoundingly intelligent Mishima. Because I feel a strange sort of kinship with Mishima. An affinity borne out from the fact that , just like him, I battle with my demons every single second.
The story of his death fascinated me.On November 25, 1970, a believer in ‘the samurai way’ ,Mishima stood on a balcony in front of some one thousand servicemen at the Tokyo command of the Eastern Headquaters of Japan’s ground self defense forces.Here, he exhorted them to rise up against Japan’s post-war Constitution, which prohibits the country from rearmament.He then turned back to the room and proceeded to perform ‘hara-kiri’ – ritual Japanese suicide. This involved driving a razor-sharp Japanese sword into his stomach and then having his head sliced off by a waiting friend.
“His drive to death had deeper roots…. its sense that beauty is both life’s raison d’être and proof of its futility. “(http://www.theguardian.com/books/2011/jun/03/rereading-yukio-mishima-sea-of-fertility-tetralogy)
Over & Out, guys 🙂 http://youtu.be/kTvKaLW5bu8